


Must I Tell You Once Again

by orphan_account



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual Sex, Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, bottom ghirahim, top volga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Angry at his lover/mate/boyfriend (whatever you want to call it) for showing off in front of others, a possessive Volga reminds Ghirahim who he belongs to (in soul if not in body).





	Must I Tell You Once Again

**Author's Note:**

> As I put at the beginning of most of my NSFW fics: everything is consensual, both parties want it. Non con can be abbreviated to nc and in this house that stands for not cool :(

"Did you really think you could get away with that?"

No, he didn't, but that wasn't really the goal, was it? Ghirahim just laughed at the dragon warrior pinning him to the rough wall of the mountain cave he called a 'home'. 

"Whatever do you mean?" 

"_I mean_, did you really think you could show off like that in front of that damn Twili? Lead him on as if anything would come from it? Act as if you weren't already claimed?"

Volga's claws twisted deeper into Ghirahim's cloak, pulling the demon closer to him. Ghirahim's lazy smirk turned into one of mild outrage. 

"You may serve another master, but I will remind you _who you belong to_."

He released the demon, who rocked back into the wall at the force. Scoffing at the dragon's roughness, Ghirahim walked away from the knight with a swish of his cloak. 

"And you think that's you?", he asked, looking back over his shoulder, "Please, I wouldn't give my exquisite self up for a pathetic and dispensable soldier like yourself."

His first mistake was turning away. Ghirahim found himself pinned against the wall once again, this time with his back to the dragon, arms twisted behind him painfully.

"Say that again."

"That I'm exquisite? I know, you don't have to remind me."

"_The other thing_."

"I wouldn't give myself up for a pathetic, weak, mindless follower like you? I can degrade you more, if that's what you're into."

"Silence. And yet, you think you can lust for a pitiful, pining mess like him."

"At least he's a king where he came from. You can't even lead an army to save your life, and this is your home world."

Volga ripped Ghirahim away from the wall with a roar. 

"I am the Guardian of Eldin Caves! Dragon Chieftain of the Fire-Spear! I have crushed armies and burned kingdoms, and I am more than enough for you!"

He knew it,_oh Hylia did he know it_, but it was so much fun to tease the easily angered dragon knight. And, of course, the rough treatment that came with his anger made it all the more fun for Ghirahim.

"Hmm. But are you sure you can handle such a dark power as myself? They say men have gone mad when dealing with demons, and I am no ordinary demon."

Ghirahim gasped as Volga slammed his spear into the ground in front of him.

"I am no man. You are mine, _my gem_, and I intend to make it so you never forget that."

Ghirahim leaned back against Volga to taunt,

"And how are you going to do that? You can barely fight me, and now you're weaponless. " He pretended to pout. "Whatever can you do?"

"You'll be surprised, my dear."

Strong arms wrapped around Ghirahim's middle, and for a second he almost sighed into the embrace, but the comfort didn't last long. Volga kicked his knees out from under him and Ghirahim went tumbling to the ground, guided by rough hands that pushed him on all fours. 

"You really think you can harm me like this? I'm made of metal, I won't break so easily." Ghirahim hissed as Volga leaned over him, stretching his arms out in front of him, causing Ghirahim to fall to his chest, hips still in the air.

"I don't intend to break you." Volga whispered into his ear and sat up to plant a knee to Ghirahim's back. "Just remind you of your place. Of who you belong to."

Ghirahim struggled to push himself back up into a less vulnerable position, but Volga pushed his wrists into the ground. He was not expecting the rope that was roughly looped around them, or to be flipped around so he was lying with his back on the rocky ground, claws digging into his shirt underneath the cloak.

"I'll warn you: you can make this disappear or I will rip it off you."

"Thanks for the warning," Ghirahim grumbled as he snapped both the cloak and shirt away in a flurry of diamonds, a slight blush beginning to cover what Volga could see of his face. The dragon raked his nails down the demon's chest, drawing out a furious gasp of pain and leaving long, black trails in his wake. No blood seeped from the cracks, as it only pierced Ghirahim's illusion of a Hylian-like exterior, but it would take him forever to repair it with magic, especially after the draining activity that was to follow. A hand settled in the middle of his chest, where his core would be, but no request for it to appear came. Instead, the dragon stroked the spot and leaned down to whisper,

"You'll be begging for me, for this, before I'm finished with you. These off too, unless you want to deal with fixing them later." 

The hand on his chest wandered down to the waistline of his pants, playing with the diamond in his sash. Rolling his eyes, Ghirahim made them disappear too.

"Aren't you worried someone might see me like this? I thought you didn't want me 'showing off', so to say."

Volga's hands gripped his hips with strength that would have bruised any mortal being. 

"If anyone sees, then they will know who you belong to. They, however, will not stay for long, out of fear."

The knight bared his teeth, and with a deep growl, he flipped the sword spirit onto his stomach (who yelled in protest), stretching his arms in front of him and fixing the ropes to the spear, leaving Ghirahim struggling to free his hands.

"You know I can get out of this anytime I want?"

Ghirahim growled, tugging his arms back (which lifted his hips into the air with every pull—Volga shuddered darkly)

"And yet, you don't." Placing a comforting hand on the back of Ghirahim's neck, Volga purred, "But please, if it gets too much for you, do try harder."

Ghirahim tugged on the ropes and blushed.

"Is that a challenge?"

Volga scoffed.

"It can be."

He said, placing himself behind Ghirahim.

"Like I said, you'll beg for me before we're through, and you'll forget about that damn _Twili_." He hissed out like it was a curse.

"Really? Because right now it's seeming like you're all talk and no—_Ah!_"

Ghirahim gasped as a finger was harshly jammed into him.

"That shut you up." The dragon laughed at him as he squirmed beneath his hold, withdrawing temporarily. "Too rough for you? Do you want to stop?"

"No! I mean— I," Ghirahim stuttered as Volga laughed harder.

"Very well, _love_ if you want it rough, then you will _get it rough_." He growled before spreading apart the demon. Ghirahim's breathing was uneven as he whined at the feeling of hot breath on his most sensitive areas, sure steam was coming out of the dragon's mouth, one wrong word away from unleashing his fire (which wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't particularly feel like burning all the skin off his ass today). The dragon's hot tongue licked a stripe over his hole, teasing the sensitive area, prodding at him, opening him. Ghirahim clenched his fists and tried not to react. He wouldn't give him that satisfaction just yet.

But, _oh_, was that going to be hard. Each rough push of a finger was followed by almost unbearable heat (and he's not even inside of you yet _goddesses help me_), barely wet enough to be comfortable (but that wasn't the point it was _supposed_ to hurt, he _wanted_ it to hurt). The heat of the caves was suffocating, he could feel his core pulsing beneath the false skin, begging to appear, wanting to come out and show whoever was treating him like this his greatest vulnerability—a brief thought told him this was a major flaw in his creation, considering this was a battle (_that he had lost_) and he was mere moments away from showing his 'enemy' the only thing that could kill him—but his Master wouldn't do that, it was nonsense, right? He made the mistake of glancing back over his shoulder—straining his neck and arching his back to do so, wrists still tied to the spear, getting rubbed raw to reveal the black and grey diamond patterns underneath. It seemed the dragon knight had not bothered to remove his armour, a fact that left Ghirahim feeling more and more like he had already lost the battle and it was useless to continue pretending to struggle for dominance. The dragon caught his eye and smirked, forcing his fingers in deeper, and Ghirahim turned his glaring gaze away, the beginnings of shame and humiliation beginning to creep in. _He loved it_(his pride refused to admit it).

He broke his attempt to not react when the fingers were withdrawn, hissing at the pull and sudden emptiness. It didn't last long, for they were replaced with something much too large, much too hot, something which he was not nearly ready enough to take (but he wanted it anyway). The dragon hovered at his entrance, dragging the ridged appendage over again and again, tracing the curve of the demon's back with his claws as he arched towards it, only to groan in frustration when it was taken out of his reach. 

"Waiting for something?" Ghirahim gritted his teeth, trying (and failing) to keep his cocky, dominant attitude. Volga gave him small laugh.

"I'm trying to decide if I want you to beg, or," He leaned forward, pressing up against the demon under him, mouth right next to his ear, "If you even deserve it. After all, you seemed pretty interested in some Twili cock."

The dragon pulled back with a nip at his exposed ear, laughing. Ghirahim made his displeasure known, cursing in what must have been either ancient Hylian or some forgotten demonic language (either way Volga didn't understand it).

"Do you want an apology, is that it? I'm already on my knees, what more do you want? I'm trapped, I'm willing, and I'll let you do whatever you want with me, _but I will not beg_." A dark thought crossed his mind. "I bet Zant wouldn't be so reluctant."

And, oh, was that the wrong—right—thing to say. The dragon behind him roared, and slammed one hand on the side of his head, pushing it into the rough ground (sure to leave him with tiny black scrapes that would mar his face for days, how inconsiderate). His other hand clawed at his hips, pulling them up once it finally wrapped around his waist and grabbed at his cock, squeezing the base just so it was almost too tight. He was pounded into ridge by ridge of that long, hot cock, dripping from pre and the dragon's natural lubricant. Ghirahim was left gasping, aching painfully, well aware that even when he reached his limit the dragon's harsh grip wouldn't let him come. The vicious tirade that followed only aroused him further.

"_Don't you dare say his name_! You think I'm _reluctant_? You don't deserve this, you ungrateful whore! You want—_ahhh_—you want it rough? Hard? You think you're just going to get what you want?"

Ghirahim cried out when Volga abruptly stopped, grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. 

"Think again, sweetheart. Now, _beg_."

Ghirahim moaned and muttered in denial incomprehensibly, but Volga just tugged his hair harder and refused to yield. 

"You can start with an apology if you like." He growled out, squeezing harder, making Ghirahim cry out. Panting, Ghirahim squeezed his traitorous eyes that threatened to spill tears shut. 

"I'm. . . sorry?"

Volga's hips jerked harshly, and he prompted Ghirahim, "For what?"

"I didn't—I didn't mean to—don't make me do this, please!"

Volga laughed mirthlessly, relaxing his grip in Ghirahim's hair and on his cock. "You're already begging, why stop now?"

Ghirahim made a noise that could almost have been a whimper, but continued.

"I'm sorry for. . . leading him on", He started, hoping Volga would give up and go back to fucking him. "I didn't really. . . I didn't really mean it. I just wanted—I just—I—"

Ghirahim stuttered, tears of humiliation finally falling. Though Volga was still gripping his cock, his other hand had started to pet his hair.

"Yes?"

"I. . . I was bored, and he was there, and I knew it would make you act like this, and I'll admit I may have gone too far, but I didn't mean any of it! I'm yours, Volga, please, please, you may not own my body but my heart is _yours_, and I want you to get possessive and rough and I _need_ you to _fuck_ me, claim me, whatever dragons fucking call it, _Hylia, just don't leave me like this!_"

Apparently that was enough for Volga, because he let go of the sword spirit to wrap his arms around his chest and continue at his bruising pace, Ghirahim a moaning mess beneath him, arching into the harsh cock spearing him open, writhing in his embrace, any more pleas now incoherent. It only took several more harsh thrusts that pressed up inside of him, the dragon pressing against _everything_, for Ghirahim to spill over the edge, crying out. Panting hard, the dragon knight was soon to follow, the tightened grip of his demon's ass as he thrashed beneath him too much, and with a final roar that shook the cave walls and threatened to bring rocks falling he finished.

It took Volga several minutes for his head to be clear enough for him to realize he was still inside of Ghirahim, but the demon didn't seem to mind. He had his eyes closed, breathing heavily as he tried to bear what he had just done. 

As the dragon pulled out, Ghirahim whined at the loss but didn't say anything. Volga stood up to straighten his armour.

Ghirahim glanced over his shoulder, arms still tied to the spear in front of him, and smiled weakly, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. All it earned him was a playful slap on his sore ass and a dark smirk from his lover. As Volga cut him loose and pulled his spear out of the crack in the rock, Ghirahim sat back and rubbed his wrists.

"I did mean it, you know."

He muttered, eyes down cast down and blush refusing to recede from humiliation.

"What, after that you're taking it back?" Volga asked angrily, grip on his spear tightening.

"No, not—whatever. It doesn't matter." Ghirahim dismissed the thought bringing his gaze up but still ignoring the dragon in front of him.

"No, tell me." Volga kneeled down to the sword, one hand on his spear, the other reaching out to cup the spirit's face. "It does matter. _You_ matter."

Ghirahim blushed harder, his ears pulling back against his head.

"I am sorry. I like it when you're possessive, but I don't want to hurt you or make you jealous. I said my heart was yours. I meant it."

He finished in a whisper, gaze returned to the floor. The dragon in front of him looked surprised. He hadn't expected such a confession from the prideful demon sword. Bringing his lips to the other's forehead, Volga gently kissed the demon before telling him, "And I am yours, my gem. Do not forget that, either."

Ghirahim giggled as he leaned into Volga's touch, the dragon bring his arms around to embrace the demon.

"You should put your clothes back on. After all, I don't want anyone to see you like _this_."

**Author's Note:**

> Why do all sex scenes I write end up being just over 1000 words of poorly executed BDSM


End file.
